


corresponding shapes

by exhaustedwerewolf



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, He's stressed, Help, I don't know how to tag this and I'm halfway through my exams, I just can't spend any longer on this, I wrote from Dorian's perspective last time and now you get to Really meet my anxious son, Intrusive Thoughts, It's Fade Magic I Swear, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Soulmate-Identifying Animals, Speech Disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 13:05:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exhaustedwerewolf/pseuds/exhaustedwerewolf
Summary: The story goes that sal’dunathe are gifts from the Maker, mystical animals sent out of the Fade to help guide his creations to their soulmate. The personality of one’s sal’dunathe reflects that of their soulmate, and as a result, certain prejudices surrounding certain creatures have emerged. When Lucan Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus finally encounter theirs, neither get quite what they expected.





	corresponding shapes

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by the soul-animal au conceptualised by @an-island-of-bunnies (over on tumblr) Please check him out! I adore his OCs and his art is just wonderful!  
> Title taken from Such Great Heights by The Postal Service! Hope you enjoy!

“A snake?!”

Lucan was focused intently on keeping still. Sitting on the windowsill was better than simply standing behind the curtains; it kept his feet off the ground, his weight off the old, creaky wood floors, kept his toes from being spotted sticking out from under the hem.

“Well Mahald, what did you expect me to do?”

It also allowed him to lean his head against the cold glass of the window, and glimpse, through the gap between the curtains and the wall, a sliver of the study. Just now, he was staring at the back of his father’s coat.

“Of all the…” His mother huffed, her voice trailing off.

“It’s not something he can control.” His father’s lioness crossed his field of view, her tail lashing back and forth in as she prowled.

“I’m well aware, Erard.” Mahald said, irritated. Lucan heard the beating of wings, a shrill call, and imagined her eagle perched on her shoulder, stirring restlessly, feathers ruffled. “Hush, Avri. But you have to admit, it’s troublesome. This is just like him. All of his siblings found a _sal’dunathe_ that was _presentable_.”

Lucan bit down on the inside of his cheek and started intently for a moment at the damask patterned fabric, each green thread. Veles chose this moment to poke his head out of Lucan’s collar, her black tongue flickering against Lucan’s neck.

“At least it’s not venomous.”

“At least?!” Her voice climbed an octave- Lucan kept staring at the fabric of the curtains. “Don’t tell me it _looks_ poisonous, I was expecting some brown, skinny thing-”

Lucan glanced sideways into Veles’ dark, glossy eyes without turning his head.

“It’s quite vibrant; black and red and yellow, stripes. Small, though. We spoke to a specialist who initially thought it could be dangerous, but he was mistaken. A milk snake, he called it.”

“I don’t care what he called it.” Mahald snapped. Guilt blossomed in Lucan’s chest- his mother had hardly been home for an hour, and after months apart they were already arguing. Over him. He admonished himself for eavesdropping in the first place- honestly, what had he _thought_ would happen? It had been a stupid idea to begin with- Veles, whom Lucan was quickly learning seemed to sense when he was getting lost in his own head, nipped him gently. It didn't hurt, but caught by surprise, Lucan let out a quiet gasp-

The curtain was yanked back, clattering on the rail. Veles ducked back under his collar. Lucan found himself frozen, pinned to the window by his mother’s steely grey eyes.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” She asked quietly.

He swallowed dryly, opened his mouth to apologise- felt the words snag. Avri took flight from Mahald’s shoulder, wheeling about the room once before perching on the mantelpiece, but not once did Mahald turn her eyes from her son. Lucan could feel the pressure building in his throat, tears beginning to burn at the corners of his eyes, the foaming panic tearing through his chest like rapids- he just had to say _something_ -

She lost her patience before he expected. It seemed it took less and less long.

“Get out.” She demanded, turning away from him as if losing interest. Lucan practically fell off the sill in his scramble to obey.

“Mahald…” his father began, but it was his lioness that cut him off, tossing her head in his direction with a throaty growl.

“Go to your room and stay there until you’re told otherwise.” Mahald added, speaking over her shoulder. Lucan nodded, even though she wasn’t looking, practically running out into the hall.

He didn’t slow until he was well out of earshot, and it was only then that Veles poked her head out, to hiss in his mother’s general direction.

-

“A dog.” Felix said, flatly.

“What?” Dorian asked, halting his tangent about time magic, his train of thought evaporating. He glanced over to his companion, who was staring down the street, back the way they had come.

“It’s been following us for some time.” He explained patiently, pointing.

Dorian followed his gaze, and was somewhat startled to see a dog standing in the middle of the road, not ten metres away, amber eyes fixed intently on Dorian. He was one of the largest dogs Dorian had ever laid eyes on, with a solid grey coat and pointed ears. His tail wagged from side-to-side gently, but he remained where he was. Several people walking the street were staring openly at the mutt, their heads turning from him to Dorian, leaning close to one another to whisper. Dorian felt his gut twist, and looked to Felix.

“It’s probably just lost.” He reasoned, although he could tell without even looking back at the dog that he was still watching him. “It’ll get bored and wander off in a moment.”

“Dorian, I’ve been watching it.” Felix said quietly, his voice low enough that their small audience wouldn’t pick up on what he was saying. “We’ve made several turns, and it’s always been close behind.”

Dorian swallowed.

“You don’t think it’s…”

“Your _sal’dunathe_?” He finished. “What else could it be?” Felix’s eyes were hard and serious.

“What? No, it can’t be a…” Dorian started to turn, but stopped himself. “How do you know it’s not yours?” He whispered harshly, but immediately regretted the venom in his tone. He wasn’t wishing the dog on Felix, but the alternative…

“It’s been looking at you the whole time. It's looking at you right now.” Felix pointed out, far too reasonably.

“We’ve been right next to each other.” Dorian hissed back, worry bubbling in his veins, his tone becoming sharp with it. “How could you possibly tell which of us it’s been looking at?”

“Look.” Felix reached up to lay a placating hand on Dorian’s shoulder- he stepped back from his touch, but Felix just shook his head affectionately. “Let’s split up for a moment, and meet back at home. I’ll take the river route, and you keep going this way. Then we’ll know for sure who it’s following.”

Dorian ran his fingers through his hair, agitated, but he couldn’t find a flaw in the plan.

“Alright.” He said, reluctantly. “I’ll see you at the house.”

Felix gave him a sympathetic smile that only served to strengthen the worry, boilingly hot under his skin now, and walked away. Dorian, acutely aware of his audience, lifted his chin and strode off, the heels of his boots clicking against the cobblestone.

Dorian stoically resisted looking over his shoulder again for two whole minutes, until he had stepped into a narrow alleyway that offered relative privacy. It was a quaint little street, bright flowers in the window boxes, ivy climbing up the walls. More importantly, it was deserted.

He took a steadying breath, and spun round, his robes swirling as he turned. The dog stood at the end of the road, silhouetted in sunlight, one paw lifted, as if he had paused mid-step.

Dorian buried his face in his hands and groaned.

It seemed too much like a cruel joke; an apprentice studying under a prominent mage like Gereon Alexius walking around with a tail-wagging mutt in tow. He thought miserably of the _sal’ dunathe_ that trailed those magisters he had been introduced to; birds with exotic plumage, lithe and graceful big cats, iridescent insects with large and lustrous wings. Dogs, he had heard it said, with derision, were a commoner’s animal; for servants, soporati, slaves.

With a sigh, he emerged from his fingers, and found the dog had drawn a few steps closer. On impulse, he stooped and took up a loose stone from the paving.

“Go on, stop following me!” He called, before hurling it at the mutt, missing deliberately by several feet.

The dog flinched anyway, flattening his ears against his head, and sank down with a whine. His forlorn expression could only be described as puppy-dog eyes, and Dorian scoffed at his own guilt, and massaged his temples.

“Alright, alright…” He murmured, and dropped into a squat. The dog’s ears pricked up again, but he lay perfectly still. Dorian reached out a hand, and then dropped it again. He felt ridiculous.

“I’m… sorry.” _Apologising to a dog_ , he thought to himself, _a new low_. He drummed his fingers on the ground, hoping the noise might be somehow reassuring, and wished he had some item of food on him, or knew even the first thing about animals. “But you’ll have to forgive me if you’re not what I was expecting.”

The dog raised his head and tilted it to one side.

“And you’re _not,_ for the avoidance of all doubt.” Dorian complained, clutching the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to completely ruin my image, you know that?”

As he talked, the dog was beginning to relax- his tail had come up and was slowly moving from side to side again.

“You look nothing like the _sal’dunathe_ of any noble I’ve ever seen, and quite frankly, I haven’t a clue what I’m going to do with you.”

The dog’s tongue had lolled out- it was panting happily now, and began to move cautiously towards him.

“Also, if you defecate indoors, so help me, I will send you back into the Fade myself if I have to.”

The dog had reached Dorian now, and was nosing against his hand; Dorian could feel little huffs of warm air against his palm. He brought up his other hand to pat the dog’s head, still ranting.

“At least you’re not a stumpy-legged lapdog.” He mused, scratching the dog behind the ears- he whined happily, and leant into Dorian’s touch. “Although that might be more dignified… at least you would have smaller feet.” The dog barked as if in response, and gave Dorian a slobbery lick on the cheek.

“Eugh!” He exclaimed, giving the mutt a half-hearted shove. “Vishante kaffas, that’s disgusting!”

He barked once more, tail wagging in earnest now, and before he knew it, Dorian had collapsed into laughter.

-

“That seems to be the last of them,” Dorian began, carding his fingers through his hair, as the last demon crumpled to the floor, and turning to the strangers. His eyes fell on the Herald’s hand, still aglow with Fade magi, “You know, it is fascinating, how does that-”

Before he could finish, Romulus loped past him, clipping Dorian as he ran and almost overbalancing him. When Dorian recovered his footing, he looked up to see that Romulus had skidded to a stop and was nosing at the _Herald_ , of all people, tail whipping back and forth in a blur.

The man, whom Dorian had just witnessed take down demons without pause, shrank back, clutching his bow against his chest, while Romulus pawed at him and whined excitedly. Admittedly, his _sal’dunathe’s_ muzzle was still stained dark with demonic ichor, but the Herald seemed more shy than afraid, squirming on the spot.

“Um-”

“Romulus!” Dorian called, starting forward, but he didn't even look back, now sniffing intently at the Herald’s marked hand- the man lifted it out of Romulus’ reach, as if it was a dangerous object.

It was the Seeker’s leopard, placing itself between Romulus and the Herald, warning him off with a long drawn out growl, that eventually got him to veer away. It was then that Dorian realised that, apart from its glossy spotted coat, the only other _sal’dunathe_ he’d glimpsed in the chaos of the fight was the shaggy haired, green eyed canine, now standing rigid beside the equally stiff elven mage. The dwarf, chuckling openly at the display, accounted for the lack of another, but looking the Herald up and down rapidly, he saw nothing- no bird perched on a pauldron, no insect crawling its way around an arm, no rodent scurrying out of hiding.

The Herald was _sal' i'tel_ then, he concluded, humiliation clawing at his insides. For Romulus to throw himself at a stranger like that was embarrassing enough, but in a situation where that reaction was implicitly unrequited...

“Who are you?” The Seeker asked, suspicion dripping from every word.

“Cassandra, it’s- fine.” The Herald’s voice caught- he was still flushed, and clearly flustered.

“Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?” Dorian interjected, swallowing his embarrassment, bowing politely. “My apologies for the excitement of my canine companion.” He added, as Romulus padded back to his side, half-hiding now behind his legs from the bristling leopard. “Must be an attraction to the Fade magic?” He suggested.

“I’ve never noticed-” The elf began, but a forced laugh from the Herald cut him off.

“Must be!” He said, a little too loudly, brushing his armour off and tugging a glove on over his marked hand. “To business, then?”

-

A black darker than lightlessness, the black of unconsciousness, consuming, endless- and then- like being jolted from a nightmare, Lucan landed hard on his knees. Water illuminated with the sickly green light of the mark splashed up around him as he hit the floor.

“Blood of the Elder One-!” A voice made him look up, to see two armoured guards, weapons drawn, standing in the waist high water. When the second barked;

“Where’d they come from?”

He saw Dorian out of the corner of his eye, drawing himself up to stand, streaming water, face eerily lit by- red lyrium, red lyrium that was sprouting from the stone walls. There was no time, though, to catch his breath- he reached back for his bow as Romulus charged at the armored men, and as Dorian raised his staff.

-

“Displacement,” Dorian said, musingly, after the second man had crashed down dead. Lucan’s breathing was still ragged from the fight. “Interesting.” Romulus wandered back over to Dorian, sending the water plashing against the walls of the room as he went, and Dorian reached down to scratch him between the ears absently. “It’s probably not what Alexius intended. The Rift must have moved us… to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?”

“The last thing I remember, we were in the castle hall.” Lucan mumbled, concentrating on Dorian and on _not_ removing a glove so he could press his nails or his teeth into a wrist to deal with the surge of stress, and the fact that he could not see the sky. Or an exit.

“Let’s see. If we’re still in the castle, it isn’t… Oh! Of course! It’s not simply where- it’s when!”

“When?!” Lucan repeated, his heartbeat stuttering. “You’re saying-”

“Alexius used the amulet as a focus, it moved us through time!”

Panic welled in Lucan- for a moment, all he could do was stare, before one worry rose from the swirling sea of anxieties, piercing the surface like a dark crag.

“Oh no.” He whispered, and then immediately began patting himself down as quickly as he could, spinning around like a dog after its own tail as he checked his pockets, his back, his sleeves.

“Lost something?” Dorian asked, bemused, but Lucan barely heard him.

“Veles? Veles!” Lucan said, panic mounting in his voice- he tore off a glove and pushed back his sleeve- “Veles, you can come-” exposing first her flickering tongue, then her smooth head. “Out…” He sighed in relief, and ran a finger gently over her scales. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes blissfully when he scratched under her chin. “Don’t scare me like that, girl.”

Abruptly, he remembered with a stab of embarrassment that he had an audience and swung round to face Dorian, who was staring, wide-eyed. Before he could say anything, the mage began to laugh. Lucan felt his face flood with heat.

“Ah- S-sorry, I thought with the s-spell that we might have been s-sep- that she didn’t come with us, or-” He cut himself off, biting down hard on his lip.

“I thought you were _sal' i'tel_.” Dorian commented, as if that explained everything, getting control of the laughter. As if at the sound of his voice, Veles wound her way around Lucan’s arm and raised her head to look at him. Eyes on her, he drew closer, raising a hand cautiously. “Veles?” He repeated, and looked to Lucan. “May I?”

“Of course.” Lucan moved closer to Dorian, only for Veles to immediately wend her way around and up Dorian’s arm. “You were supposed to. Think that I didn’t have a _sal’dunathe,_ I mean. The council thought that it wouldn’t help my case if my _sal’dunathe_ was a literal snake, but she’s…” He trailed off, watching Veles, who was now flickering her tongue against Dorian’s neck. “She must really, um, like you, she’s not usually so friendly.”

“That tickles.” Dorian said, through a poorly suppressed smile. “How on earth do you get used to it?” He asked, just as an unexpected push from behind made Lucan jump, splashing up water ungracefully in an attempt to catch his footing. He turned to see Romulus, nosing at his glove again, tail swishing back and forth, eyes bright with curiosity.

“Probably the same way you got used to him.” He couldn’t help but grin himself, reaching out slowly to allow Romulus to sniff at him before gently running a hand through his thick fur.

“He’s half wolf, you know.” Dorian said, holding out his fingers now for Veles to brush herself against. “Took me long enough to figure it out. Cost me some hideously expensive upholstery before I realised he can’t be kept indoors for any length of time,” he rolled his eyes at the mutt, who was now lapping at Lucan’s fingers with a peculiar sort of intentness. “He’s usually shy around other people, if you can believe it.”

“He seemed a little more reserved when you visited Haven,” Lucan admitted, still smiling down at the dog. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “Right. Sorry about all that, I was just frightened she wasn’t… But we should probably figure out when we are.”

He swept a vague and still slightly shaky hand in the direction of the pulsing lyrium crystals, the ominous drip-drip-dripping of the water. Dorian nodded, but Lucan was acutely aware that he was still smiling at him, just a little.

“Sounds like a plan. Onward, shall we?”

-

“Hey,” Dorian whispered, poking at Lucan with his foot. “Look at them.”

“Hm?” Lucan asked, looking up from his book towards the fireplace, in the direction where Dorian was nodding.

Romulus was curled nose to tail around Veles, who was herself snugly coiled. Both were sound asleep- in the flickering firelight, Lucan could see their sides rising and falling in complementary rhythm. Lucan huffed out a little laugh.

“What?” asked Dorian.

“They’re so strange.” Lucan replied fondly, smiling at them. “I mean, just look at them, they're nothing… alike...” He trailed off with a yawn, raising a hand to cover his mouth. “Excuse me.”

“Maybe we should follow their lead.” Dorian posited, leaning forward and planting a sleepy kiss at the edge of Lucan’s mouth even as he plucked the book from his hands.

“Hey, I was-”

“It’ll still be there in the morning.” Dorian flicked him gently on the forehead.

“Alright, alright.” Lucan laughed, pushing him playfully away.

“Come to bed,” Dorian complained, leaning back towards him again, resting his forehead against Lucan’s neck. “Your quarters are freezing, I’m not going without you.” Lucan rolled his eyes melodramatically.

“Using me for my warm-bloodedness, I see.” He said, leaning down to kiss Dorian’s head. “Alright, love, let’s go.”


End file.
